A Matter of Honour
by elfmaiden4legs
Summary: A series of stand-alone one shots dealing with matters of honour as they arise in the series.
1. Chapter 1

**The Devil Within**

Captain Pellew looked at the young man standing before him – still a boy by all accounts – and then over at Mr Simpson. Young as he was, and with still a lot to learn, Mr Hornblower had all the makings of a very fine officer destined for a promising career if he should be willing to work hard enough for it. Already distinguished in battle he'd proven himself brave in the line of duty, and to have a clear and steady head upon his young shoulders. He was also gentle of heart – when he looked into Mr Simpson's eyes however he saw only cold, calculating ambition and contempt – there was genuine evil in the older man's eyes.

He was quite prepared to believe Mr Hornblower's version of the events which had transpired following the boarding of the Papion the previous evening – that being that Mr Simpson had indeed shot him with the intent to kill during the crew's assault. The near fatal shot was too close to having being perfect to be a coincidence – and what was the man doing firing up into the ship's mast anyway, knowing full well that there was only Mr Hornblower up there? He asked himself.

Even so the Captain could not afford to judge any man by anything other than what he saw him do.

He'd placed an impediment upon Mr Hornblower when he'd first joined his ship's crew as a warning to all men that he would not tolerate fighting amongst themselves – especially when personal vendettas could too easily lead to the loss of life. There was quite enough of that already, he thought, and he did not take the subject of his crew solving petty squabbles amongst themselves by taking pot shots at each other lightly.

The young Midshipman had however kept his word to his Captain, and had proven himself to be of quite a different character to that which had preceded him. He did not seem to Pellew to be the type of man to ask for satisfaction from another readily – but this was a matter of the young man's honour, and even Captain Pellew had to admit to himself that honour had to be satisfied. The merit of a good name could not be underestimated when it came to the impact it had upon a man and his work – lack of which could lead many down a trail of resentment and bring upon them a plague of self-doubt.

On the other hand if Mr Hornblower lost it would undoubtedly bring about the end a very promising career before it had even chance to begin, for if Mr Simpson won Captain Pellew could see in his eyes that he was not a man who was likely to let Hornblower live.

He sighed – it was an impossible position for him to find himself placed in – but even so he knew in his heart what had to be done. He had no real right to refuse the young man his request.

"Very well Mr Honrnblower, I remove that impediment…" He gave the two men his answer, hesitant only in heart and thought and not entirely convinced that he was doing the right thing.

Still, at least the impending duel would sort the real men from the boys, he thought, and if there was really any justice in the world then Mr Hornblower would be the one to come out on top.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Measure Of The Man**

As Hornblower starred down at Simpson he felt all the anger and resentment he'd harboured for the man bubble up towards the surface – utter contempt swelling in his young heart. The bullet wound in his armpit throbbed uncomfortably – a physical representation of all the pain and grief the man had brought to the lives of so many men, men who'd deserved better – and no doubt the scar would prove a constant reminder of for many years to come. The man now made a pitiful sight, kneeling down before him, begging him to spare his life.

Nothing could give Hornblower more satisfaction than to shoot the man dead on the spot, and to rid the world of his putrid and sorry soul. Would he have spared him his life, he asked himself, if the fates had faired them both differently? He suspected not. Mr Simpson had spread fear and disorder amongst the men like black rats spread the plague throughout the fleet – and the time had now come to bring the man's reign of terror to an end.

The young Lefttenntant's finger tightened upon the trigger, and his hand shook from the sheer restraint it was taking to stop himself from releasing the bullet from its barrel. His heart was saying yes – telling him that the world would be much better off without the likes of Simpson to add to its suffering billions – but his head was telling him no, there had already been enough blood shed – and he was nothing like the man now grovelling at his feet.

But Simpson had shown Clayton no mercy when he'd fired the bullet – which had eventually killed him – in cold blood, or when he'd cut the unconscious Mr Kennedy adrift – to float helplessly away upon a starless sea.

No, he'd shown no mercy then, and he would have undoubtedly shown him none now – but then Mr Simpson was no man, he was a parasite, and shooting him would make the young officer no better than he. So to avoid the temptation to shoot Hornblower fired the weapon above his head – dispensing it's one and only bullet into the air, rather than into the gut of the man still snivelling in front of him.

"You're not worth the powder." He spat as he tossed the spent pistol aside.

No – a bullet, like the gun from which it was fired, was an instrument of battle to be reserved for use upon an enemy – and Mr Simpson was no threat to Mr Hornblower anymore. For the first time he could finally see the whimpering, whining spectacle of a man for what he really was – nothing more than a bully and a coward, and with very little substance to boot.

He was worth nothing – a nobody – certainly not a worthy adversary – and in a final gesture of indifference towards the man who had once been his jailor and tormenter he turned his back.

He had spared him his life, but only because he hadn't wanted to start a rather promising navel career with the seed of anger in his heart. He wanted more – his choices would be better than those Mr Simpson had made, and although he was destined to occasionally fail he resolved to use whatever time he had in this world to try and be the best possible man and officer that he could be.

He was neither a coward, nor was he a murderer.

As he began to walk away, clutching his wounded arm, however, he heard a commotion behind him followed by an explosive bang and spun around just in time to see Mr Simpson fall to the ground, fresh blood oozing from a bullet hole in his chest – and a dagger in hand.

Unsure of from where the fatal shot had been fired he turned to look about him and just about made out the image of Captain Pellew, gun still in hand, on the cliff top above.

It took a moment for the young man to realise that his Captain had just saved his life.

Mr Simpson could haunt him no longer – he would never need fear the twisted cat and mouse games of the older Midshipman again. Simpson was dead, and Mr Hornblower was finally free to get on with living the rest of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Of Honour and Loyalty**

"Maria my girl," The young woman's mother soothed as she stepped into her daughter's and new son-in-law's bedroom the morning after Horatio's departure to sea. She found the young woman sitting up, perched on the edge of the double bed, and sobbing into a linen handkerchief, "don't cry."

She sighed as she sat down beside her daughter. She'd heard the newly married pair arguing only the morning before, and she now understood fully the reason for her daughter's upset. "You need to understand that this is not a game, your father often wouldn't tell me such stories of his life at sea either."

"No?" Maria asked, the young woman now looking up at her mother, her eyes red and bloodshot from silent hours spent trying to cry away the pain of her broken heart, and her cheeks soaked from bitter and salty tears.

Her mother shook her head. "One thing you have to understand is that it's often too painful! When they're away from their ship and the sea they think of nothing other it often seems, yet whilst on shore they're constantly trying to seek solace, away from the trials of whatever war they might be fighting at the time. They lose friends Maria, are fighting for their own lives." She explained. "They have a huge responsibility weighing down on their shoulders, any moment could be their last, and with a wife back at home they have more than just themselves to consider. Your Horatio is a man on honour Maria. If he dies he still has you to think about, but he's also a man of loyalty, you'll see, he'll see you alright in the end!"

"But mother how can you be so sure…" Maria looked, uncomprehendingly up at her mother, deep into her watery blue eyes, and choked. "Sometimes I doubt his love for me at all… sometimes I feel he loves his ship more than he loves me."

"Your father was very much the same with me." Her mother explained. "Lord knows I never wanted for anything once he came along… except a man about to make me feel safe and protected from the chaos and mindless brutality which was going on out there, and a warm body to cuddle up to of a night time. He was over the moon when I wrote to him and told him that I'd had you though. But I learnt early on not to expect too much… how can you expect a man whose already pledged himself to His Majesty's Navy and his allegiance to his ship to devote his whole self to you? So I settled for half his love, and accepted that I'd always take second place in his heart. I knew that he always loved me in his own way."

"But I'm not sure that's enough for me mother…" Maria sobbed. "I dreamt of so much more."

"He asked you to marry him didn't he?" Her mother exclaimed. "He made an honest woman of you! Lord knows what you expected Maria, but you're getting above your station if you think you're any different from any of the other thousands of woman who've married a Navel man before you. Marriage isn't a walk in the park, and this is what you wanted!"

"Yes, I know that, but…" Maria uttered faintly.

"Even an absent husband is better than no husband at all." Her mother cut through her daughter's words. "And you love him don't you?" She asked.

"Well, yes," Maria nodded, wiping her wet and swollen eyes with the linen hanky still clutched within her clenched palm. "I love him with all my heart!"

"Then take it from me, you're luckier than most with the good fortune to marry," Her mother nodded, "and Horatio's a decent man, he'll see you're alright, trust me… just learn not to expect too much of him."

With this she rose from the bed where she'd been sitting, perched, beside her daughter, and got to her feet. Maria seemed slightly calmer now, and would have appeared almost completely consoled if it hadn't been for a few stray tears which continued to fall and the upheavals of her chest.

"I know this must be difficult for you now," her mother sighed as she paused to address her daughter from the bedroom door, "marriages nearly always are, but hopefully given time you'll learn to understand."

With this she turned and left the room, leaving her daughter alone to contemplate her words for a while. She stood on the threshold of the bedroom for a moment, listening in, but upon hearing no further sounds of her daughter's sobs began to make her way downstairs.

Finally Maria, now wiping the remainder of her tears from her pale cheeks, and on hearing her mother's footsteps on the staircase rose from the bed and made her way over to the window. Pulling the curtains back, she looked out to sea.

Wondering where her Horrie was now, and whether he was thinking of her as she was thinking of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Of Traitors and a Hero's Welcome Home**

"Are you alright Mr Hornblower?" The Major asked as he watched the young Captain slump to the ground – a dazed and distant expression upon his young, dirt streaked face.

"He's had a bit of a bang to the 'ead sir." Styles explained gently – tapping the side of his head with a forefinger as he approached. "Think it might be a touch of mild head trauma."

"No, I'm fine Styles, really." Hornblower explained, his attentions drawn back to his exhausted crew. "Major Cotard." He gestured with respect towards the Major. "I was just thinking… back to our time on the Indy together… Styles, Mathews," He addressed them both now, "and of old friends. The Captain Hammond I knew would never have betrayed England for such a futile cause. Life just used to seem so simple."

"Come on Mr Hornblower, on your feet." The Major spoke kindly as he hauled the young man back onto his feet again. "We'd better get you to the ships surgeon."

"No, please Major, I assure you there's really no need for that." Hornblower explained, but felt a steady hand upon his shoulder. He turned abruptly to see Lefttennant Bush smiling back at him.

"With all due respect sir," His friend insisted, "I think it would be for the best… after all you have more than yourself to consider. I believe there is a young lady back in England who would be very upset to hear that anything might have happened to you… I think you understand…"

It was with this that Hornblower had to concede defeat, and nodded – quite believing that he probably did. He sighed…

Life had once seemed so simple... now things were about to get a hell of a lot more complicated, and he could only hope that he was ready to face them when they did…


	5. Chapter 5

**So Much More than England**

Horatio looked down at the tiny child – the tiny innocent and vulnerable life – cradled within his wife's arms, and smiled. The accumulation of nine months waiting in that moment was overwhelming, as a wave of emotion washed over him; fear, anxiety, pride and joy. He'd never believed nor realised that he could love so completely nor feel so protective towards any other human being, let alone one so small – and yet his feelings of responsibility for the tiny child cradled so protectively within his wife's arms were all consuming. The seemingly fragile bundle, with confused eyes looking up at him, would be reliant upon its new parents for everything for the long years to come – food, and comfort, shelter, love and affection, and protection from the dangers of an uncertain world. Horatio could only hope that they were both up to the task.

"It's a boy Horrie." Maria smiled as her husband approached, evidently exhausted by the trails of childbirth, and yet never before had Horatio seen her so content and happy – not even on their wedding day. She was positively glowing. "You have a son."

"A son." He smiled absentmindedly, gently caressing the back of the child's small hand, and watching with bewildered fascination, mingled with affection, as tiny fingers wrapped themselves around his much larger digit. "He's beautiful."

"Just like his father." She beamed up at him with pride, and as Horatio's gaze was directed towards her beautifully elegant face, he smiled, planting a delicate kiss upon the corner of her supple lips. It may indeed have been true that he'd initially married her through a perhaps misguided sense of loyalty, and his duty to live by his own principles; and yet in that moment Horatio could see his young wife in a renewed light. Never before had she looked more beautiful to him than in that moment – tired and dishevelled though she was – cradling their tiny child in her slender but strong arms.

"He'll need a name." Horatio remarked.

"He's your son Horrie." She smiled, resting her head delicately upon his warm shoulder as he settled himself down upon the bed beside her. "All these long months you've been away at sea, I've been thinking… perhaps it's only fitting that you should be the one to name him."

"Me?" Horatio frowned.

She nodded.

"Well…" He faltered, consumed by deep thought for a moment, before an idea suddenly occurred to him, and he smiled. "There was a man I once knew… several years ago now. He was brave, and strong… the most loyal friend I ever knew." He explained wistfully as he recalled all the good times spent in the company of his very dear friend – his best friend. "He died… what now feels like a very long time ago, and yet there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him… how about Archibald… Archibald Edward?" He asked. "Edward, after Sir Edward Pellew?"

Maria nodded, and smiled. "If that's what you so wish." She responded contentedly. "But, if you don't mind me asking… and I know that you don't like to speak about your life at sea… but who is this Archibald you speak of?"

Horatio sighed. "Archibald… Archie Kennedy, was my best friend…" He smiled, "and one of the greatest and most honerable men I ever knew."

"I would however like him to take your name as well Horrie." She insisted. "After all I believe all boys aught to be named after their fathers. I think it's only fitting, don't you?"

"Very well." He nodded. "How about Archibald Edward Horatio?"

Maria nodded.

"Archibald Edward Horatio Hornblower." She repeated quietly to herself, uttering the name under her breath. "Yes, I like it. I like it very much." She mused. "And one day he will grow up to be a sailor too, just like his father before him." She smiled.

"Although I almost wish he wouldn't." Horatio sighed to himself under his breath, looking down at the tiny, innocent, and vulnerable life before him, and wondering exactly what the future might hold. "And yet I fear the call of the sea may already be in his blood."

"What was that Horrie?" Maria asked.

"I just said I love you my dear." He said, pecking her gently upon the top of her head, and wrapping his arm tenderly around her cold shoulders.

"I love you too Horrie." She smiled, nestling her head even further into his warm neck and shoulder, before closing her eyes contentedly. The baby boy squirmed within her tired arms, and Horatio smiled, turning his gaze momentarily towards the window, and out to sea.

There, somewhere on the horizon was another ship waiting to set sail, and a crew awaiting the return of their Captain, but for the first time in his life the call of the sea was the last thing on the young Hornblower's mind. He'd finally found that something Admiral Pellew had once spoken about, something which meant so much more to him than England…

… and only now did Horatio finally understand.


End file.
